Too Close
by featherless-wings
Summary: Peter does his best to cheer up a poorly Micky. Show-verse Monkees one-shot. Contains romance and sexual situations between two men. Also contains fluff. This was written by the request of someone looking for a fluffy Torklenz story with a sick Micky!


Micky had the flu. He'd been sick for most of the week and although his sore throat and headaches had passed he was still laid up in bed as he had no energy whatsoever. Even moving as far as the bedroom door was exhausting for poor Micky, and it was seriously starting to get him down.

Peter had been doing his best to take care of his curly-haired boyfriend, but Micky certainly wasn't an easy patient to deal with as he was becoming increasingly frustrated about being stuck indoors.

Micky and Peter had been sharing the downstairs bedroom of the Pad since not long after they got together several months before, and Peter walked into their room with a cup of herbal tea for his poorly partner.

"Here you go." Peter said, sitting the cup of tea on the nightstand.

"I'm bored, Pete." Micky groaned as he laid almost helplessly in bed. "I'm so _sick_ of being sick."

"I know, babe." Peter sighed, perching himself on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on Micky's forehead. "You've cooled down. Hopefully this means your fever is passing."

"Maybe we could go outside?" Micky suggested hopefully. He pulled himself into a sitting position and looked out of the window. "It's such a nice day, man. Being in here is such a drag. Maybe if we went down to the beach it'd help make me feel better."

Peter looked at Micky sympathetically. "You don't have the energy, Micky." He sighed. "You can't even walk as far as the bathroom without any help, let alone down onto the beach."

"But I'm bored." Micky whined, flopping across the bed and burying his face in the pillow. He punched the pillow feebly. "MI'msobored."

Peter placed his hand on Micky's shoulder and gently pulled the curly-haired man over so he could see his face. "I didn't catch that."

"I said, "I'm so bored"." Micky repeated. He rubbed his face in his hands. "I hate being sick. I hate the flu. It's so stupid and pointless. Why am I even sick anyway?"

"You know why," Peter smiled. "You went skinny dipping in the ocean in the middle of the night. You were freezing cold! I told you right away you'd end up getting sick."

"I wish I'd have listened to you." Micky pouted.

"You see, I do talk sense sometimes." Peter smiled knowingly.

"Yeah, yeah." Micky sighed. He folded his arms and sighed defeatedly. "So I guess I'm stuck in here then."

"Looks like it." Peter said. He straightened the quilt that was covering Micky, making sure his boyfriend was tucked in properly. "You'll feel better in a few days though. You just need to take it easy."

"I_ am_ taking it easy." Micky protested. "I've been taking it easy for days! But I'm so weak. I feel like a prisoner in my own body."

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Now you're just being overdramatic."

"Nuh-huh!" Micky hit back. "I can't even get to the bathroom unaided. It totally sucks, man. The only good thing about this is you looking after me."

"I like taking care of you." Peter smiled. He run his fingers through Micky's curls comfortingly as his smile faded. "I don't like seeing you sick though." He said sadly.

Micky let out a little cough.

"Here," Peter passed Micky the mug of tea. "Drink this."

Micky sat himself up enough to take the cup from Peter. "Thank you, baby." He said.

Micky put the mug to his lips and took a small sip of the herbal tea. Peter watched as Micky closed his eyes, clearly liking how the warm liquid felt on his still slightly tender throat. It made Peter sad to see Micky sick. At first they hoped it was just a cold that would pass in a couple of days, but as time went on Micky had become more and more unwell. They'd even had to cancel a show at the Vincent Van Gogh Gogh's a couple of nights before as Micky's voice was a mess and he didn't even have the strength to play drums either. Mike had been pretty frustrated they had to cancel such a good gig, but he also understood that Micky was in no fit state to play a show. Davy, on the other hand, had thrown a little bit of a tantrum and accused Micky of overreacting, but once Mike had reminded Davy of the time he refused to play tambourine because he'd broken a nail, the Englishman decided to back down and get off Micky's back.

But Peter didn't really care about the gig. As disappointed as he was to let down the fans and lose out on a little bit of money, Peter's main concern was Micky. Micky had been so poorly and just looking at him made Peter feel blue. Micky was pale and he looked absolutely exhausted. His usual boundless energy and zest for life were totally missing, and instead he was glum and tired.

"How is the tea?" Peter asked a couple of minutes later.

"It's really nice, thanks." Micky replied. "I know we all make fun of your herbal remedies and all that hippy stuff, but I actually think it really helps."

Peter smiled. "The tea has Echinacea in it. It's completely natural and it helps build up your immune system. As I've been giving it to you since you first got sick, I think you would've been much worse without it. I think it's done you good."

Micky nodded. He finished the last of the tea and handed the mug to Peter. "Thanks, Pete." He said. "I don't know what I would've done without you. I don't do a very good job of looking after myself."

"I have noticed." Peter scoffed.

"Hey," Micky frowned. "You're not supposed to be mean to me when I'm sick."

"I was just agreeing with you!" Peter laughed.

"You're not meant to agree with me when I'm putting myself down." Micky pouted.

"I'm sorry, baby." Peter smiled, stroking Micky's hair. "But it's true though; you _don't_ look after yourself."

"Well maybe it's because I don't need to," Micky said. "I've got you looking after me so I don't need to worry about looking after myself."

Peter shook his head in disbelief. "You're funny, Micky." He said. "Though can I tell you a secret?"

Micky looked intrigued. "What's that?" He wondered.

"I think you're really cute when you're sick." Peter admitted, looking away shyly.

"You get a kick out of seeing me like this?" Micky gasped.

Peter's head snapped up. "Of course not!" He shrieked. "What I mean is I _still_ find you cute when you're sick."

Micky narrowed his eyes as he looked at the blond suspiciously.

"Of course I hate seeing you ill." Peter went on. "But I still think you're cute. Even when you look tired and have no colour in your cheeks, I... I still think you're adorable."

A small smile teased Micky's lips but he fought against it as he tried to maintain a serious expression. "If you think I'm so cute then how come you haven't kissed me since I've been ill?"

Peter frowned and he looked a little hurt. "I have kissed you." He said.

"Only on the forehead." Micky hit back.

"When I tried to kiss you on the lips you told me not to because you were a bit snotty and you said you felt gross." Peter said in his defence.

"That was days ago; I'm not snotty anymore." Micky replied. "I don't feel gross; I just feel tired. There's no reason why you can't kiss me."

Peter shuffled up the bed a little before leaning forward and closing the gap between himself and Micky. Micky smiled as he watched Peter's face move towards his, but when Peter got too close Micky put a hand to the blonds' chest to stop him.

"You don't really have to kiss me, Pete." Micky told him gently. "I was just putting you on. I don't really expect you to kiss me when I'm still sick."

Peter pulled back. "Aw man, I thought you were really upset that I hadn't kissed you in days. I felt really bad about it."

Micky bit his lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle. "Sorry." He said.

"The only reason I haven't kissed you is because I thought you wouldn't like it." Peter went on. "Of course I've wanted to kiss you. I _always_ want to kiss you."

Micky smiled. "It's okay, Peter. I was only kidding around. I always want to kiss you too, but not when it could end up making you sick as well. I'd hate it if you got sick because of me."

Peter placed his hand on the side of Micky's face before leaning in and kissing the curly-haired man on the lips gently. It totally caught Micky by surprise - especially after what he'd just said - but when Peter pulled back he beamed at his boyfriend.

"You didn't have to do that." Micky tilted his head to the side. "I don't want you catching my germs."

Peter shook his head dismissively. "It doesn't matter." He said. He picked a grape from the bowl on the nightstand and held it to Micky's lips. "Here ya go."

Micky smiled, allowing Peter to feed him the grape before munching on it happily. "You're too good to me, Pete." He said. "All you need is a white coat and you'd be the perfect doctor."

Peter chuckled quietly. "I don't think I'm smart enough to be a doctor, Micky." He replied sweetly.

"Sure you are." Micky responded enthusiastically as Peter fed him another grape. "Well... you have the people skills, anyway. There's more to being a doctor than just knowing tones of stuff. You gotta have a good bedside manner... and you _sure_ have that, Pete."

Peter smiled from ear to ear, but his face fell when he saw Micky visibly shiver. "You're cold." He stated with a frown.

Micky looked towards the open window. "Do you mind shutting that for me, babe?" He asked.

Peter stood to close the window and stop the light breeze from drifting into the room. He stepped back and looked down at Micky who was now pulling up the covers in an attempt to keep warm.

Peter sighed sadly. "I hate seeing you sick."

"I'm alright." Micky replied weakly. He let out a little cough that made Peter's heart melt.

Peter kicked off his slip-on shoes and climbed into bed next to Micky. Their 'bed' was actually two single beds pushed together as they didn't have the money to buy a double one, but neither of them cared about that - they just liked that they could sleep next to each other.

Peter snuggled up close to Micky, wrapping his arms around the curly-haired man and rubbing his skin in an attempt to warm him up.

"I'll be sweating in a minute." Micky sighed. "I hate that I'm cold one minute and hot the next."

"I wish I could make you feel better." Peter said sadly. "I feel really helpless."

"Hey," Micky pulled back so he could look at the blonds' face. "You've been great. You've taken real good care of me this week."

Peter stroked Micky's curly hair gently. "You'll be better soon, Mick."

"I hope so." Micky forced a smile. "I don't want us to have to cancel any more gigs. We could really use the money... I hope Mike isn't too mad."

Peter shook his head. "Mike is fine." He said. "And you don't need to worry about money right now - we'll manage. We always do, don't we?"

Micky smiled at his partner's sweet face. "I guess so."

The two young men gazed at each other for a few moments before Peter slowly pressed his lips against Micky's again. The couple kissed slowly as Peter moved on top of Micky, pressing his body against the slightly taller man's and stroking his hair at the same time.

Micky took hold of Peter's arms and pushed him away gently. "What are you doing, Pete?" He asked innocently, gazing sweetly at the blond on top of him.

"I'm trying to warm you up." Peter smiled, his eyes flickering with desire. "Is that okay?"

Micky bit his hip. "Making out with you feels wrong." He said which caused Peter to instantly frown. "Not like that!" Micky corrected quickly. "I don't mean it like that. I just mean it feels wrong because I think I'm going to make you sick."

"I told you it doesn't matter." Peter smiled as he continued to stroke Micky's curly hair. "I just want you to feel good. When was the last time you felt good?"

Micky stared at Peter for a moment before shrugging his shoulders defeatedly.

Peter moved so his lips were hovering close to Micky's ear. "Then let me make you feel good." He whispered.

Micky closed his eyes as Peter slowly sucked his earlobe into his mouth. The blond nibbled Micky's ear gently before moving his lips to the curly-haired man's neck. Peter kissed across Micky's throat as his hands moved to the buttons on Micky's stripy pyjamas. Peter left a trail of kisses down Micky's chest, moving down inch by inch with every new button opened.

Peter was now straddling Micky, and he sat back and smiled at the man underneath him; Micky's upper-body was now exposed, and his chest was heaving slightly. Peter also noticed that Micky didn't look so cold anymore.

Peter took hold of the waistband of Micky's pyjama pants and slowly started to pull them down as Micky sucked in a breath of anticipation. Peter pulled the pants down far enough to reveal Micky in all his glory, and he planted a kiss at the bottom of his flat stomach.

"You don't have to do this, you know." Micky told him. Peter lifted his head and looked at Micky blankly. "I mean, I know I'm not looking my best at the moment. I'm pretty sure this stupid illness has taken away any sex appeal I might've had."

Peter couldn't help but laugh. "Oh Micky." He said, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "You're still gorgeous to me."

"Really?" Micky cringed.

Peter laid down next to Micky and drew little circles on the younger man's chest. "Do you want me to prove it?" He asked seductively.

Micky bit his lip and nodded his head enthusiastically.

Peter smirked at Micky's response and slid himself back down the bed again where he took Micky's cock in his hand. Peter started stroking Micky slowly, licking his lips in anticipation of how good he knew he was about to make his partner feel. Micky had been feeling so rough for days now, and Peter felt that his poorly boy deserved a treat. Peter knew Micky wasn't in a fit state to do anything to _him_, but he didn't care about that. At the end of the day, Peter knew this wasn't about him; all he wanted was to make _Micky_ feel good.

"I'm glad you're not too sick to get a hard-on." Peter commented as Micky's cock was stiffening rapidly in his hand.

Micky blushed. "What can I say? That's one part of my body that still seems to be in good health."

Peter grinned at the curly-haired man before dipping his head and sucking Micky into his mouth eagerly. Micky instantly gasped at the contact, and Peter bobbed his head a few times before concentrating on the sensitive head of Micky's penis.

Peter pumped Micky as he run his tongue over the tip and got a moan in response; Micky's hand latched on to Peter's hair as he struggled to stop himself from thrusting up into the blonds' delicious mouth.

"_Oh_ Pete..." Micky gasped as Peter slid his lips right the way down his shaft. "Mmm... that feels _good_."

Peter let Micky slide out of his mouth before licking up the underside of the cock in his hand and running his tongue over the tip once more. Peter then sucked Micky back into his mouth and closed his eyes slowly as he let Micky's cock glide down his throat with ease. Peter had learned that if he found the place in his head of ultimate peace he was able to relax the muscles in his throat enough to take Micky down to the root.

"Oh _fuck_, Peter." Micky moaned, his grip on Peter's blond hair tightening. "You're _so_ good at this."

Peter smiled onto Micky's cock, pleased that his boyfriend was feeling some pleasure for a change. He released Micky from his mouth again and started pumping him hard and fast.

Peter looked up at the curly-haired man; Micky's face was contorted in ecstasy and Peter got such a kick out of seeing the man he loved in this state.

"I love making you feel good." Peter said as he gazed up at Micky while continuing to pump his cock just the way he liked it.

Peter slid his lips down the side of Micky's shaft before stretching his tongue out to lick Micky's sensitive balls. Peter's work caused another breathy moan to fall from his partner's lips, and Peter smirked in response.

Peter started playing with Micky's balls in one hand and continued to stroke his cock in the other. Micky wriggled and writhed on the bed, and Peter grinned wickedly - he loved having control over Micky's pleasure and he got a real buzz out of watching his boyfriend squirm beneath his touch.

"Suck me, Pete. _Please_." Micky moaned. "I don't have the energy to let this last too long."

Peter's smile turned sympathetic, and be obeyed his partner's request. Peter dipped his head and sucked Micky into his mouth again, hollowing his cheeks and working hard to take as much of Micky's cock into his mouth as he possibly could.

Peter felt Micky's grip on his hair tighten as he got to work, and he set a steady rhythm as he concentrated on making Micky feel as good as possible. Peter knew Micky was sick and didn't have a great deal of fuel in the tank, so he wanted to make sure the curly-haired man got as much out of this as he could.

"Peter, I really love you." Micky gasped, both his hands losing themselves in Peter's shiny blond locks. "I really, _really_ love you."

Peter knew that if he didn't have his mouth stuffed with cock he'd be grinning from ear to ear, but as it was he continued to focus on the job at hand. Peter kept bobbing his head, enjoying the sound his mouth and throat made every time he took Micky deep. He also loved the sound of Micky's small breathy moans, too; to Peter, it was the best sound in the world.

"I'm real close, Pete." Micky moaned, his hips involuntarily rising off the bed.

Peter hummed in response, knowing how much the curly-haired man loved the way the vibration felt on his cock. Micky squirmed even more, the grip on Peter's hair getting tighter still, and Peter knew he had to brace himself for what was to come.

Peter made sure he started sucking even harder and faster, although now he was mainly concentrating on the head of Micky's penis. Peter allowed his throat to relax in anticipation, and moments later he felt Micky start to spill his load into his waiting mouth.

"Oh _Peter_." Micky moaned as the blond sucked him even harder. "_Fuck_, Pete..."

Peter squeezed Micky's shaft as he continued to suck every last drop out of his boyfriend's sensitive cock. When Peter was satisfied he'd taken all Micky had to give, he released Micky from his mouth and swallowed with ease.

"Have you warmed up now?" Peter asked innocently as he continued to stroke Micky slowly.

Micky nodded breathlessly. "Yes," He gasped. "That was incredible, babe."

Peter smiled sweetly. He looked down at Micky's softening cock and kissed the tip before releasing it from his grasp and climbing up the bed again.

Micky reached out and stroked Peter's hair, flattening it down as he'd made it a bit of a mess from how hard he'd been gripping it before.

Peter wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before kissing Micky on the lips gently. "I hope I made you feel better, even if it was for only a few minutes." He said.

"You did." Micky nodded in response. "You sure know how to use your mouth, Pete."

Peter blushed and looked away bashfully.

"I'm sorry I can't return the favour." Micky sighed guiltily. "I think if I tried to suck you off now I'd end up having a coughing fit, and that really wouldn't be enjoyable for either of us. Not to mention seriously unattractive."

"It's fine, Micky." Peter smiled. "I'm just glad I could entertain you for a few minutes. And anyway, you'll be able to do the same for me when I'm in your position."

"My position?" Micky questioned with a confused frown.

"Yeah," Peter said sheepishly. "When I'm sick, I mean."

Micky watched his boyfriend suspiciously for a moment. "Peter... are you feeling unwell?"

That sheepish look remained stuck on Peter's face and the blond nodded guiltily. "I might be..."

Micky propped himself up on his elbows and tilted his head to the side. "_Pete_."

"I've got a bit of a headache and I feel kinda feverish." Peter admitted.

"Since when?" Micky pressed.

"Yesterday." Peter replied. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to worry. And I know you definitely wouldn't have let me do what I just did if you knew I wasn't feeling too great."

Micky sighed and laid back down again. He rubbed his eyes with his hands before peaking through his fingers at Peter who was watching him carefully.

"I can't believe you tricked me." Micky said, pulling his hands away from his face. "You're right; I _wouldn't_ have let you do that to me if I knew you weren't feeling good. You tricked me."

Peter's face squished up into a concerned frown. "Please don't be mad." He pleaded as he started to feel terrible for deceiving his partner. "You said you were bored and you've been feeling so terrible and all I wanted to do was make you feel bette-"

"Pete," Micky smiled. "It's okay. I was only teasing, baby." He sat up and kissed Peter on the cheek. "You're so sweet, and you're so good to me. I'm lucky to have you."

Peter blushed. He felt a little silly that he hadn't realised Micky was joking, but he was relieved the curly-haired man wasn't angry with him.

"I'm sorry." Peter cringed guiltily.

"What have you gotta be sorry for?" Micky asked. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I've made you sick."

Peter smiled sympathetically. "It was always going to happen, Mick. We share a bed and I've been with you pretty much twenty-four-seven... I was always going to end up getting sick eventually."

Micky looked at Peter with a thoughtful expression, clearly accepting his point. "Come lay with me." Micky sighed, patting the bed beside him.

Peter smiled and laid down next to Micky, cuddling up close to his partner.

"At least I don't have to feel bad about being close to you now I know you're getting sick too." Micky said as he wrapped his arms around the slightly older man.

Peter pulled the covers over them both. "You could have the plague and I'd still want to be near you." He said in a totally nonchalant fashion.

Micky couldn't help but smile at that comment. He lifted his head and brushed the blond hair out of Peter's face as he gazed down at his lover adoringly. "I really hope you don't get as sick as me." He sighed. "But even if you do, I'm going to look after you just like you've looked after me."

Peter smiled, pulling Micky down into a big fat hug and stroking his hair gently. "Thank you, Micky."


End file.
